


Music of the night

by ringmasterr



Category: Mystery legends: Phantom of the Opera
Genre: Gen, SUCH GARBAGE I'M SORRY, i love this game ok, this is really old writing tho lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 18:23:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19481479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ringmasterr/pseuds/ringmasterr
Summary: Even MORE entries from a jukebox challenge.  XD





	Music of the night

**Author's Note:**

> Parts of a Jukebox game from a private forum!
> 
> WARNING THIS IS OLD AND PROBABLY BAD LIKE MOST OF MY WRITING. I do actually want to do a fan fiction for the game, but..I'll have to get to that first. I have a lot of oneshots for everything and want stories for every fandom so I'm drowning in a sea of projects lol. This probably needs editing and will get it. Spacing issues probably are here too, as I copy pasted it. IT'S MY FIRST TIME USING THIS SITE DON'T HOLD THAT AGAINST ME ;; This is like..2-3 years old I believe. I'm hoping having it up here will inspire me to post more recent writing, because I may wind up insecurely deleting this.

" _Oh_!"

Evelina recoiled in shock as though she had just been struck, rapidly backing her way into the nearest wall of the ballroom as her eyes widened at the absolute horror that had been waiting for her to discover this entire time. To think, she had honestly believed that she had seen the worst the phantom who had spirited her away here in the first place had to offer. Only to discover how _terribly_ wrong she'd been now, along with the grave mistake she'd made wandering into this particular room where that ghastly specter had set up such a morbid puppet show for her to find.

Starring a beautifully dressed puppet bearing a wig that reminded her of the old portraits she'd seen of her mother in the hallways, caught up in the embrace of a darker one modeled after the phantom himself. While a more gangly, mutilated one with tape over its mouth hung from the chandelier keeping this room illuminated, and bore more than just a little resemblance to her father.

"...What kind of sick fantasy _is_ this?"

She couldn't fathom why the phantom was subjecting her to all of this, what on earth he wanted from displays this gruesome or even intended to gain here other than fear, which he had already earned by kidnapping her in the first place. It left a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach to realize that her role here was purely accidental; she had _long_ since figured that one out, as the ghost had referred to her by her mother's name ever since she had arrived, fuming about memories and betrayals she'd had no knowledge of prior to the angry spirit forcing them upon her in some desperate bid to make her remember.

Evelina had been uncertain what the best way to handle that part of the situation was, and now, she was left more concerned over attempting to pull this madman out of his delusions than ever. If she told him, would he not immediately pursue her mother once more and try to bring harm, perhaps even _worse_ to her father, in attempt to wrench her from his grasp? She couldn't bear the thought of something terrible happening to either one of them, and as all of this had been what her mother was supposed to have gone through instead of her....she didn't know _what_ to do. She couldn't and didn't want to pretend to be her all in order to satiate his dark, desperate lusts, but she wasn't certain how to go about it in a way that wouldn't endanger her parents, not to mention herself.

He would find out eventually, she knew. But for now, the young woman could only stare up at the puppet she believed was supposed to be her father and shudder, feeling the icy, pervasive grip of terror regaining its hold on her once more at all the terrible thoughts of what the opera ghost might do. If only they had warned her about this chapter of their lives before, told her _something_ she could have used to go on. Appealing to the mad spirit holding her captive was not something she was opposed to if it would mean her freedom and that the poor, crazed soul would agree to move on and not haunt her family forever....but if he hated her father as much as the role of his puppet seemed to suggest, Evelina wondered if he would bother to listen to her in the first place. The immediate answer that came to mind was not comforting at all.

" _Father_.."

Her voice barely came out as a whisper as she shakily forced herself to move away from the wall, slowly and cautiously weaving her way through the ballroom toward the dead center of the room until she was right underneath the chandelier and the figure eerily swaying underneath it; gazing down at her with black, soulless eyes and lacerations all over its wooden face that made her blood run cold and her imagination wander in dark directions on what her actual father would have looked like strung up like this. She bit her lip as the awful images flooded her mind, frightened she was even thinking about that.

Though, something told her she wasn't the only one at fault; that the phantom had something to do with it as well. He had been able to force memories that were not her own to flicker before her eyes after all. Something like this would be easy, and he likely would have taken great pleasure watching her mother squirm at visions of her dead husband, for how cruel a man he seemed.

Unable to stand looking at it any longer she tore her gaze away, desperately looking for any way to free the puppet hanging from the chandelier that she could...only to come up empty, no way to cut it loose. She couldn't even reach him if she tried, and there was nothing nearby she could amass the strength to drag in here herself that would allow her to reach the wooden figure.

Tears of frustration and anger began to build in the corners of her eyes, her throat burning and feeling like it was about ready to close in from how frightening this all was and overwhelmed she felt. When she spun around to see the phantom's puppet, something snapped inside of her. Anger overtook everything and before Evelina was able to process what she was doing, she rushed over to the two dancers on the floor and starting pulling against the phantom's with all her might; clenching her teeth with anger, only knowing that this wasn't right, that she had to separate them!

It only took a few moments for her to wrench the puppets out of their vice-like grasp, the cloaked figure tumbling to the ground in a useless heap while the female's arms still remained outstretched and beckoning. For a split second, Evelina felt a swell of pride and pleasure for what she had just done, but it quickly became overshadowed by fear that the _real_ phantom would not be quite so amused by her actions and this impulsive move would be sure to cost her. Sure enough, the air suddenly became colder and thicker- so frigid that she could see her breath.

It started to feel suffocating, and so hard to breathe with each passing second. She could _feel_ the phantom's anger ready to descend upon her, and when the chandelier's lights began flickering, which they hadn't up until this very moment, the young woman spun around to face the very entrance of the ballroom, realizing she had made a very serious mistake indeed when all she could see was a foreboding and looming shadow slowly creeping its way into the room.

" _Is THIS how you repay your angel of music?!_ ", he screamed as the lights above her exploded all at once, plunging the room into darkness. She shivered at his tone of voice, and the cold air he was supplying along with the broken windows. " _By choosing HIM, again?! I gave you everything, Christine! EVERYTHING!_ "

The more he spoke the more crazed, desperate, angry, and heartbroken he sounded. Evelina choked on her own nerves as his figure suddenly appeared before her in the doorway to the room, blocking out her only hope of escape as he rapidly and angrily made his way toward her. Her mind ran a mile a minute as he did, uncertain of his intentions, and in the heat of the moment she panicked-the confession she had been so afraid to make this entire time slipping out, in some final attempt to make him see reason.

"I'm not Christine, I'm _her daughter_! _Their_ daughter!"

She had shouted it so loudly in her frustration and panic, that her own voice surprised her with how loudly, that had come out; enough to render the phantom to complete silence, and echo all around them. Her eyes widened, and her face began to pale as she realized what she had just said and done, the way the ghost's mask seemed to twist as he mulled over what she was saying. He _must_ have actually been considering it, as his gaze drifted up to the puppet of her father briefly before he turned it back to her, not even bothering to try and correct her and act like she was living in denial. She could see his eyes behind the mask only barely, but what she did see was the tell-tale look of dawning recognition. What had she done?!

"...Her daughter..." He repeated, his voice heavy with all sorts of conflicting emotions, " _His_ -"

This time he was the one to choke, though it wasn't with fear...it was with anger, _sorrow_. Evelina barely had time to register what he was about to do before the phantom's position shifted; appearing right in front of her, only inches from her face, as he reached out and took hold of one of her wrists with a grasp that could break her very bones if he applied just a bit more pressure. Her heart leapt into her throat at the close proximity, the action, the fact she could feel his touch practically burning her very skin through the gloves he was wearing. She feared he would try to kill her now as revenge against her parents, particularly her father.

" _Please_ Monsieur, " she begged, trying to appeal to him by being as respectful in how she addressed him as she could at the moment, too afraid to even dare trying to wrench herself out of his grasp. "I did not know! I _did_ -"

One glare from him alone was enough to silence her as she stared back at him, waiting for what seemed like the inevitable end. There was silence for what felt to her like an eternity, his grasp never loosening nor his gaze leaving hers the entire time, as he appeared to be weighing his options on what to do here. Before he finally seemed to come to a conclusion and a dark laugh rumbled from the back of his throat.

"She did not speak of me?" He questioned bitterly, his grasp tightening just for a moment before it loosened back to what it had originally been, evidently gaining his answer from her silence and the way she looked up at him. "So, she truly does wish to _forget_ her angel of music."

Evelina didn't know what to say or even how to react to any of this, though she let out a startled yelp as the phantom's next move was to turn and start dragging her along with him, pulling her almost to the very entrance of the ballroom.

" _Then she can forget her daughter as well_!" he cackled madly, making her blood feel as if it had turned to ice in her veins. "She denied me the love she _promised_ , and now I will deny her your freedom to keep her to her word!"

" _No_!" she finally cried out, fighting against the ghost's grasp as he tried to continue to drag her off, regardless of how much pain he would put her through, the risk he would wind up breaking her wrist and potentially more if she insisted on fighting him. The very idea of what he was suggesting terrified her far more than anything else he'd done, and she couldn't bear the thought of never being able to see her parents again, of serving as the phantom's prisoner just to spite them both. That wasn't even mentioning what dark intentions he might gain, as she seemed to look so much like her mother when he had loved her with an obsessive passion. Or what he could decide to do, with obsession and anger meshing into one explosive spectacle of emotion.

"If I cannot have Christine....then at least I can have _you_ ," he growled back as her struggling irritated him, enough that he put far more strength than she believed he was capable of into hoisting her over one shoulder, where all the struggling in the world would not matter. "If I must suffer, _they _will as well! I _will not_ return to my domain _alone_ , again."__


End file.
